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Not Optional
IHQ DCI Wing Enterable only from the Command Center, this wing is devoted to DCI operations and planning. Both the Commanding and Executive officers of the division have offices here, and within each of the halls are terminals and monitors for accessing the central database and their orders from the divisional command. A central chamber is set aside for divisional meetings, with its own holoprojector and primary access terminal for organization of divisional missions. Contents: DCI Computer Obvious exits: West leads to IHQ Command Center. Ruse has arrived. Decepticon Message: 2/170 Posted Author Cracked Mirrors? Fri Nov 13 Galvatron ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ A fairly generic gumby frowns at the camera as he delivers a routine maintenance report. "So, uh, Vektor's been acting weird again. No surprise, there. He's been batty ever since Shockwave did that memory wipe on him. But now he's been screaming about there being cracked mirrors all over New Crystal City, and how he can't remember why it bothers him, and yadda yadda. And yeah, every mirror I've seen on base has gotten cracked somehow. I think Vektor did it. Going around, punching mirrors or something. Frickin' nutjob. Anyway, I better get these mirrors replaced before Galvatron sees them. He's been stomping around the base and he looks pretty annoyed about something." Galvatron's voice screams out from off-camera, "What is wrong with all of these mirrors!? They're all cracked!" The seeker sighs, shaking his head. "Too late. Well, gonna try to keep my head down and get those mirrors changed out. Maintenance team, out." Catechism has a small, hole-in-the-wall office in the DCI Wing of IHQ. She would appear to be waiting for someone, as the door is open. There is indeed a mirror, in the office, a rather messy desk, piled with reports, a chair for her, sized just for her downwings, and a chair for a guest, also sized for downwings, perhaps inconveniently. Precisely on time, the knock comes at the door from Ruse. Not, apparently, going to wait for things to be 'late'. Catechism idly taps a keypad to open the door. There isn't much room inside, but there's room enough for Ruse to grab the guest chair and sit, if she so wishes. Curiously, the mirror is set up so that Catechism can see the reflection of whoever is sitting in the guest chair. She looks up from a sheaf of reports. "Ah. Ruse. Punctual. Is that usual for you, or was that for my, hmm, benefit?" "There's little reason to be late. It is hardly effecient." Ruse replies as she steps in, and settles into the chair lightly. "You wanted to see me?" Catechism nods and leans back, rubbing her chin and looking Ruse over speculatively. She agrees, "I did. I realise that I probably didn't make the best impression on you at our first meeting, though it turns out to have had some timely relevance that I could not have foreseen." She waves a hand dismissively. "But I digress. Tell me about you, Ruse. What are your goals and what do you expect me to do to help you accomplish them? There is, after all, that competition coming up, for the students. Now. You might be like every other Decepticons and want to smash the competition. But maybe not." Catechism steeples her fingers under chin. "Maybe you don't want to be noticed, so that you can bide your time and strike at just the right moment. Maybe you don't want to be noticed, ever, because you think it is safer. Maybe... well, it would be reckless of me to speculate with so little data. So tell me. What do YOU want?" Catechism doesn't expect an honest answer, but even a lie will be telling. Ruse considers Catechism quietly from her seat, studying the other femme for a long minute before she smirks. "And why would you think it must be one of those specifically? Couldn't it be some combination of the two, three, or more? So black and white..." Catechism pinches the bridge of her nose and reminds, "I /said/ it would be reckless of me to speculate on so little data. Your true goal could be anything, really. I was just tossing out possibilities. I wasn't necessarily expecting any of them to be correct. So. What do you /want/ to get out of this? And what do you /expect/ to get out of this?" "I wasn't under the impression that this program was optional." Ruse returns with a faint grin before her shoulders roll again. "But I do intend to gain an understanding of how things are different here. Because they are different'..." Catechism already got the impression that Ruse wasn't too into this program. Ruse's comments now seem to confirm along those lines. Catechism picks through the reports, and she asks, "All right. You have a goal." Sadly not 'punch everyone' or 'blow everyone up'. Catechism would be a great help along those lines. "Now. Where do you see me fitting into all of this?" "It seems my combat skills are somewhat...rusty, I believe is the term. I could use an update on those, among other things." Ruse seems to be picking up that Catechism isn't too thrilled with her, either. Catechism replies mildly, "I may be able to assist with that, if you'd like me to. It would do me well to do so, since your performance is going to reflect on me." Catechism hasn't admitted what her goals on all of this are. "Though, I will note, it might not be your combat skills that you need to succeed in the competition." Is that an odd thing for Catechism to say? Perhaps on the surface, but she's thinking back to an entirely different competition and how she handled it. "If you want success at all." Ruse arches a brow ridge, clearly intrigued by the last comment. "You sound as if there's a story, an experience, behind that musing." she murmurs. Catechism wonders if she has finally hit on something that Ruse doesn't find distasteful. She rubs her hands together shrugs, leaning back in her chair. She admits, "Something of a story, yeah. A while ago, there was to be a mass-combat to determine the leader of Military Operations - a division that, at the time, included Aerospace. I wasn't always in DCI. I wanted to win." This is not shocking or uncommon. Many Decepticons have ambitious streaks. "So I went about making alliances beforehand with as many of the competitors as I could. Friendship." Her lips curl into a sneer. "Bribery. Whatever worked. What it meant, in the end, is I had significantly less opponents to worry about than most. Of course. There was the matter of my 'allies', in the end. One of my allies was rather more dangerous than I was, so naturally, he was seen as the greater threat, and so, he took a lot more damage than I did. Made him easy to take out." She grins, not kindly. "I was the last one standing." That is as much of the story as she will tell; it does not end happily. Not for anyone, really. Ruse hrms quietly, but nods. "I see." She has already considered this before she grins. "I am not sure there is enough time for that. Besides...I believe it is to be one on one combat, is it not?" Catechism snorts and tilts her chin up. "Do you have a minute? Yeah? Then you have time. The overall concept could still apply to one on one fights. Get to know your fellow students. Figure out what they want. Figure out what kind of leverage you can get on them. Know the right thing, and you might be able to talk a forfeit or thrown fight out of an opponent. Or you might be able to talk someone into providing some... crowd interference. There are any number of other options, if you have the will to seize them. We are Decepticons, Ruse. To cheat is not a sin. Getting caught is the sin. You could blow up your opponent while he defragments in his berth - if you could do it so tracelessly that you don't get caught. Speaking of getting caught... do you have any idea what I do, Ruse?" Ruse inclines her head, not about to argue the truth of that. There is little point, after all! "What you do? You're an inquisitor. It's rather self explanatory." Catechism asks, seemingly curious, "And what do you think I inquest?" DCI is often shadowy and mysterious. They like it better that way. Less folks poking around and messing things up if they're too afraid to look in the first place. "I'm not sure, but I -am- sure it's not just one thing. Trechery from within. Spies from outside. Incompetance. Any number of things." Ruse returns with a tilt of her head. Catechism looks fairly satisfied by Ruse's answer, and she laughs a bit, finally explaining, "I really can't go into detail, but it's always nice to know what people /think/ I'm up to." The more interesting parts, like when Ramjet tried to murder Cyclonus, Catechism can't mention at all. "There is one recent matter, however, that I think might serve as a decent case study, however, if you're up to it. I warn you, though, it'll hurt your head." She rubs her temples, just thinking about it. Ruse hrms softly, toes tapping at the ground for a moment before she nods. "It certainly sounds intriguing." she agrees with a sudden grin. Catechism smiles a bit. She tells Ruse it'll hurt her head and Ruse is game, anyway? Now there is some bravery! She stands and paces behind her desk, explaining, "Americon is one of Soundwave's cassettes. The cassettes can usually get away with murder, because no one wants to offend Soundwave. He's too dangerous and too powerful. So. Americon used some tainted energon - see why I wanted you to know what the effects of normal energon are on you - to brainwash some Decepticons into a cult. He then tried to create bees that make energon. Finally, he lured me out to an island and tried to sacrifice me to make the bees stop exploding." She rubs the back of her head and grimaces. "However. Americon managed to upset /Cyclonus/ in the process, and in the hierarchy of scary and dangerous people, Cyclonus outranks Soundwave. This is also why Cyclonus outranks Soundwave in, well, rank." Ruse uh-huhs quietly as she listens. Head hurting? Not really, but the story is certainly amusing (and confusing) as hell. "Bees..." Catechism nods and agrees, dead serious, "Bees. Energon-making bees that explode. Because Cyclonus was displeased with Americon, he tasked me with finding a suitable punishment for Americon. I am curious. What would you suggest? You should understand that Americon has little fear or pain or injury. Americon waterboards himself, sometimes." Americon is special. "... even though we don't need air and can't really drown. I threatened him with a grenade once, and he ignored it. Americon loves the Terran country of America, to an illogical extent, but he doesn't seem to mind raiding the USA. So a simple order to destroy something in the USA would, first, be a waste of the Empire's time, and secondly, probably wouldn't really punish him." "There must be something he does not like. Rainbows, or laughter, or...something." Ruse muses quietly as her arms cross lightly over her chest, considering the question. Catechism nods along to Ruse and admits, "I was considering painting him up like the Union Jack and recording "God Save the Queen," on his cassette mode - those are symbols of England, a Terran country that Americon hates, because, historically, England tried to oppress America. Nevermind that England and America are usually allies, in the modern world." She snorts. How laughable. Ruse snickers quietly at that. "that would be something I would enjoy seeing. I am not sure he'd enjoy it...but that's rather the point, isn't it?" Catechism's optics twinkle with a sort of malicious glitter, and she nods. "Indeed." She pauses for a moment. "You'd like to see it. Would you like to /assist/?" One to hold Americon down, one to paint him and record English music on him? Echoing Catechism's own glittering optics, Ruse sits forward in her seat. "Oh, I think I could find the time to assist in a task like that." Catechism steeples her fingers, and she replies, accenting her syllables a bit, "Excellent. I have an ankle monitor attached to him, to track his movements. Finding him to administer the punishment won't be a trouble. I'll schedule in a time to assist you with your combat moves, as well," per Ruse's earlier comment about her moves being a bit rusty. "I won't keep you longer. I am sure you have many assignments to keep you busy." "Not," Ruse returns as she pushes up to her feet. "As many as you have, i am sure." Catechism looks at all the reports on her desk ruefully, but she simply says mildly, "Perhaps. I am torn between 'flattery will get you nowhere' and 'there is no rest for the wicked'. Now. Keep your optics and your audios on your fellow students, and think about /what/ sort of combat you'd like me to cover, when we find the time." Ruse merely nods, a brief inclination of her head, before she turns to step out of the little office, leaving the Inquisitor to her paperwork. Catechism mutters, "Blast," to herself. She has to do paperwork now!